


eternal pearls.txt

by tomhardad



Category: The Old Guard (Comics), The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, everyone is gonna make an appearance eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:55:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27507217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomhardad/pseuds/tomhardad
Summary: "Unable are the loved to die, for love is immortality." - Emily Dickinson
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Kudos: 17





	1. the sketchbook

**Author's Note:**

> these are just little things i wrote in my old tumblr about these immortal legends 😊 gonna try and post one chapter per day until i'm done!

yusuf loves to sketch - i mean, that was clear in the movie, sure, but the man truly loves to make art. he sketches a woman rushing to catch the train in nyc, an old, bald man in a worn out suit playing guitar in spain, a bushy golden retriever rushing to catch a frisbee in denmark and a plump toddler who patted his curls with her little fists while he was on a break with nico in peru. his favorite subject is of course nicolo, and he has several sketch books filled with him - nicolo in his old armor from the crusades, nicolo sleeping, nicolo’s hands intertwined in his, nicolo smiling at him, nicolo’s profile with his mole on display, _nicolo, nicolo, nicolo -_ but he also has a least ten sketch books filled with portraits of his team mates (andy smiling with quynh back in the 1300′s, quynh standing in attack position with her bow and arrow, booker brooding with a bottle of whisky, and of course nile, the newest member of the team and already so cherished, so loved)

one day yusuf planned on leaving those books to them, to his family. in all of them, on the back cover, he had written the same words: _to my family, i leave my heart._

there was no better gift, in his opinion.


	2. funverse au

nicolo is gaping at yusuf like he’s grown a second head, absolutely mesmerized - and turned on.

“how do you even do that?” he leans back against the bedroom wall and points at his perfectly adjusted bow tie, even though that _should_ be impossible considering he’d never even glanced at the mirror - not even _once_.

nicolo would have been madder if yusuf wasn’t so fucking _gorgeous_. “years of practice, i guess,” he winks like the perfect little shit that he is, running his very distracting hands down his pristine black suit that nicolo is _aching_ to ruin.

 _maybe later._ “i bet it must have been hard going to all those fancy art openings over the years, right?” nicolo fumbles with his own tie uselessly until yusuf pats his hand away to help him, his elegant fingers working effortlessly.

yusuf gives him a scorching once-over, dark brown eyes hooded, and smiles. “it’s definitely _harder_ to attend black tie events with you, my life.”

_definitely ruining his suit later._

“you’re impossible,” nicolo is distracted by the sharpness of yusuf’s jawline, mouth watering at the thought of kissing the sensitive skin below his ear, of undoing his bow tie and putting his lips on yusuf’s pulse point until he trembles, coming undone under his ministrations. “do you come here often?” nicolo teases, placing his hands on the small of his back.

yusuf laughs, dimples and eye crinkles on full display just for him, and nicolo wants to hear that sound forever. “well, you’re very cute but i’m married,” he flashes his silver ring in front of nicolo’s eyes, the same one he’s wearing on a chain around his neck, very close to his heart. “besides, i’m running late for my best friend’s graduation party.” yusuf adjusts nicolo’s tie and tries to pull on his hand to get him to move but nicolo has other thoughts in his mind.

“do you _really_ think nile would mind if we ran a little late, my love?” nicolo wraps his arms around his neck, smelling his aftershave, feeling yusuf’s breath hitch in his throat. “you look absolutely delectable,” he whispers in his ear and yusuf closes his eyes, leaning closer to his body.

“flattery will get you nowhere right now, mister al-kaysani,” yusuf protests weakly, burying his face on the curve of nicolo’s neck. his lips find nicolo’s earlobe and he pulls on his earring softly, grinning wickedly when he moans. “we will have all the time in the world later.” and just like that he walks away without a second look, picking up nile’s graduation present from the entryway table.

 _you’re so gonna pay for this tonight_ , nicolo thinks, running a hand through his hair and going after his husband.


	3. lykon doesn't die au

lykon is nearly ten thousand years old when he dreams about a new immortal. images blur together but he sees her name on a piece of paper in neat cursive,  _ nile freeman _ , he sees paintings and sketches, a dark, dirty street corner in chicago, he sees her trying to defend an elderly woman and getting stabbed in the stomach, blood staining her hands and her navy blue shirt. she falls to her knees and lykon feels it in his, a sharp pain that runs up his legs. he wakes up choking on air, in sync with the others, all looking around wildly, their heads spinning.

it’s been over two hundred years since they rescued booker. intervals are getting shorter now.

“ _ how…? _ ” andromache is breathless, holding onto quynh’s hand like a lifeline. lykon shakes his head, absently massaging his abdomen as the pain slowly but surely fades away as if it never truly existed. a new immortal in today’s world means they need to tread that much more carefully to remain invisible - or as invisible as anyone can be in a world where every step you take is scrutinized and catalogued.

lykon sees the same look of shock in all their faces - quynh is pale as a ghost, just as shocked as andromache; booker takes a desperate swig from his flask, his cheeks red and covered in sweat; yusuf already has his sketchbook in his shaky hands, charcoal dancing on the page to try and add as many details to her face as possible, and nicolo is looking at lykon, nodding quietly because  _ he knows _ .

“it seems like this is the appropriate time, andromache,” lykon nods right back, a smile blossoming on his face. “if being alive for all these years has taught me anything is to trust the timing of the universe. her name is nile freeman. i’m guessing she’s an artist of some kind, maybe an art student, from chicago. she’s a fighter too and a really good one, at that,” lykon looks around at his family, those people he’s known for millennia or at least countless centuries, the faces he would have recognized anywhere in the world, the souls he feels so connected to and his smile grows into a grin. “let’s go find her.”


End file.
